SHRUG .

if this were yesterday,
i would want to drink your laughs .
i imagine a taste that would make me grin a thousand sins . i would win
just listening of your triumphs over troubles . your strength . your courage . your story .
if this were yesterday, i would have taken the time to peel through the pages .

if this were tomorrow,
our eyes could have introduced themselves .
i could have tapped my feet to the tune of our pulses ... flirting & fleeting . beating
hearts pressed in each other and looking for the rhythm .
if this were tomorrow, i would have cared about our 'almost song' .

but it's today .
today-the piping leather in my car stuck to my back & made me feel unattractive .
today i sipped too much cherry coke-zero and it never quenched my thirst . even worse,
i looked into the eyes of Venice beach 'weirdos' & saw love ...beyond romance & typical .
today my hair didn't wanna act right .
my gas tank shrank my pockets tight .
i wanna skip this day & drown in the night .

sad to say, it's today ... we'll have to go our separate ways .

"fruit punch on your proclub" lol !

da poetry lounge - every tuesday night on fairfax & melrose . this month is their 10 yr anniversary (i think) & they have some of the realest people on that stage this June. ahh, im in heaven this month, i swear ! =D ...oh, this guy was really coo, check him out :



subscribe to 'da poetry lounge' on youtube . you won't regret it :) [or maybe you will, but i dont know why you would? lol]

'yellow mango tears' by stevi renee

"yellow mango tears"

the sun kissed the nape of my neck
as it cracked the horizon .
i gazed at my service-void cell:
i wish i had verizon .

'cause you probably called in the crevice of night
& i subconsciously ignored the ring
i'd rather ignore the melody of fated plight
"la dee dah dee dah ... not quite right," it sings .

i tighten my legs & twist my waist -
it's routine to stretch my ligaments .
& then you clog my cerebral space;
such a religious sentiment .

i try to shake the mural of misgiving off like glitter .
but they say glitter's the herpes of arts & crafts ...
in the meantime, i'm my own babysitter;
i'll tip toe in your smile, squints & laughs .

miss me, shift me, kiss me .

I'm so tired of being swept off my feet with baseball bats .
they often times break my ankles and lack the tenderness of brooms .
instead, I'm left kneeling in submission & out of things to give .

I'm so tired of falling in love and landing on my face .
I'd rather face the possibility that 'he' would catch me before i slam into the concrete .
it's not like i fall intentionally .
nope .
they pull the magic carpet from beneath my feet when things get a little dusty .
but what love is orderly ...always ? I don't need OCD love . things inevitably get messy .

I'm so tired of the line, "girls mature faster than boys" . maturity is only a pinch of intelligence & a cup of accountability . should i pour these ingredients in his morning coffee ?
i mean, his sippy cup ?

I'm so tired of lending my ears to vent to, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to help up and if that isn't enough ... being expected to give my vagina too .
I'd give away my embraces like Halloween candy . I'd share my undying support like recess snacks . I'd lend my loyalty as freely as a borrowed pencil ... if it meant that i would simply get it in return .

my mother told me, "Stevi, don't get discouraged by being a good girl . Guys like the fast girls now ... but they'll marry girls like you ."
can you repeat that ?
marriage is the only time when i can expect honesty, love & respect ?
should i anticipate lying, selfishness, insincerity and disrespect in the meantime ?
I'm no ones damn floor mat . I'm no ones 'trial run' . they can keep the 'game' that insults my intelligence . they can keep the half-assed, lazy attempts at dating me . they can keep the 'Tug-O-Stevi', i want you when it's convenient. . .

they can keep their bullshit .


I'M NINETEEN. i dont need a husband; i need real .

=)

"Smart" by Shel Silverstein

My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more than one!

And then i took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-i guess he don't know
that three is more than two!

Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!

And i took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
and the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!

And then i went and showed my dad,
and he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head-
Too proud of me to speak!